


Feels like I know you

by raikaya (rqyh)



Series: Youth Part 0 [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Again, Dowoon is a sarcastic baby in this one, Fluff, M/M, What Can I Do AU, also this is the first kpop fic ive written thats not bts, and thats saying something since shes always told me not to write anything for day6, blame what can i do for this honestly, its that mvs fault that im now shipping rarepairs f this, its the MVs fault, like "you can write for literally anything else just not day6 pls", my sister says its good, she endorsed this fic just saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/raikaya
Summary: “I’m just saying,” Wonpil says, “if Younghyun, the guy that no one wants to be friends with, suddenly has someone he actually legitimately smiles at, then that someone must be really special.”Dowoon looks down at Wonpil, who flips another page.“Are you shipping the two of us?” Dowoon asks, half-joking and half-serious.Dowoon's glad it's not Wonpil he has a crush on.





	Feels like I know you

Dowoon is screwed. Completely, utterly, you-can-never-get-out-of-this-no-matter-what-you-do screwed. Younghyun is wearing a black shirt under his polo today, and Yoon Dowoon is so damn screwed.

            Why, of all the seventeen-year-olds in this high school, did Dowoon have to have a massive crush on Mr. Edgelord over there with his dyed hair and his silver earrings and general Angst-Is-My-Middle-Name stature? Why couldn’t it have been Jaehyung, the skinny and cute eyeglasses-wearing boy who looks like a nerd but is actually a big-ass meme? Or maybe Wonpil, the smiley guy who is obviously pining over his best friend who is currently in love with a girl who will never love him back—okay, maybe on second thought Dowoon is glad it isn’t Wonpil _or_ Sungjin.

            But still, anyone would have been better than Mr. Kang Younghyun, the obligatory rebellious kid in a high school class of about twenty, who only shows up to class if the teacher is successful enough to catch him. Kang Younghyun, who wears silver headphones to school and lets them hang there for the entire day. Kang Younghyun, who either doesn’t know how to wear his school uniform properly or just doesn’t care. Younghyun, whom Dowoon has had the biggest crush on since that time Younghyun gave him a milk box when he saw that Dowoon was too busy running away from girls to buy lunch.

            And now, that same Younghyun is sitting in his usual place in the classroom, at the seat closest to the window, where the afternoon light is shining a beacon on his stupidly handsome face, wearing a black shirt under his open polo while listening to something on his silver headphones.

            And Dowoon is so damn screwed.

 

Younghyun just left the classroom after being chased out by the girls flocking around Dowoon, and it takes the latter a few seconds before wanting to bang his face on the table repeatedly. Dowoon _knows_ about his crush on the boy—is very well-aware about it, actually, if that wasn’t obvious enough—but he didn’t know how whipped he was before Younghyun said, “Hey, stop it. The guy’s trying to sleep.”

            He tried to stop his heart from constricting so much, but Younghyun’s voice was so _sweet_ , and so _cool_ , and so _not as deep as his own but still pretty deep enough to make Dowoon want to squeal_.

            And he tries really hard not to be pissed at the girls, because being angry at a bunch of innocent high schoolers who just want to express their fondness for someone they idolize (even though it’s incredibly annoying) is the last thing he wants to do.

            Still, Dowoon wishes he could’ve gotten a chance to just speak with Younghyun, just a little bit. He was finally gonna get his chance to have an actual legit conversation with Younghyun, but the girls _had_ to chase him away. (Dowoon swears that the sound of Younghyun’s scoff is gonna stay in his head for weeks.)

            _Then again, maybe it’s good that I wasn’t able to talk to him,_ Dowoon thinks as he goes down the hallway with the girls trailing behind him, walking in the opposite direction as Younghyun.

            Dowoon figures that he’d be too star-strucked to be able to utter a single word in front of Younghyun, anyway.

 

Dowoon flops down on his bed, exhausted beyond belief. It took him ages to convince the girls not to follow him home, telling them that he didn’t want them to get tired because of him since his house was pretty far away, to which they squealed and, “If that’s what will make you happy, Dowoon-ah.”

            Dowoon wonders if Younghyun is ever going to tell him those words, too.

            Dowoon slaps himself repeatedly.

            He flips himself over so he’s looking up at the ceiling of his room, a pillow stuck between his arms. It’s cheesy, honestly, how whipped he is about Younghyun. It was just one milkbox, which probably cost Younghyun only a few coins at most, but Dowoon had found himself looking back at Younghyun’s leaving figure—at the way he had both of his hands in his pockets, and at the way students avoided his gaze and stuck to the walls of the hallway because he was intimidating and scary.

            Dowoon wouldn’t know how they could think that. All he thought about Younghyun was the way he pushed the milkbox into his chest, said, “Here. Those girls never give you a break, do they?” and sent him a tiny smile before turning away. All he thought about was the way his heart leapt in his chest and how his cheeks started to burn in a way he wasn’t familiar with.

            Dowoon was used to girls flocking around him, to hearing people gush over him, to having to reject girls in a cold way so they would get over him sooner.

            Dowoon wonders if he should be a bit kinder to those girls. Now that he’s mulling over it, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle Younghyun rejecting him coldly, either.

            Dowoon sits up from his bed and turns to the small table next to it. It’s filled with pictures of Younghyun, arranged neatly and decorated with hearts and flowers. Dowoon would rather not say where he got them. Dowoon knows how it looks like. He _knows_ , okay.

            In all honesty, all Dowoon wanted was to keep one picture of Younghyun. Just one. Just so he could let himself smile a little, knowing that he had a piece of Younghyun that he could keep for himself. But one became two, and then two became five, and then lo and behold, Dowoon now has an altar dedicated to a seventeen year old boy in his class, which isn’t creepy _at all_.

            Even so, when Dowoon looks at those pictures, at the one with Younghyun playing the bass; at the one with him sitting in the middle of the grounds; and then finally, at the one where Younghyun looks like he caught whoever was taking a picture of him, the same one where Younghyun is putting out a hand to cover the camera with an embarrassed smile on his face… Dowoon finds himself smiling, too. He wants to know Younghyun a bit better, wants to talk to him a little, wants to become his friend, wants to keep being his friend even if it turns out that he can’t like him back.

            Because there are so many girls wanting to be Dowoon’s girlfriend, but there’s only one boy whom Dowoon wants to fall in love with.

 

Dowoon slams the door shut, breathing heavily. He’s finally lost them. After ten minutes of half-running and half-walking (because the teachers would _kill_ anyone who runs in the hallway), Dowoon has finally escaped the girls to the one place they’d never think to go to: the school rooftop. Which was, of course, forbidden to be entered. Dowoon is never one to break the rules before, but desperation had taken over, and there’s no turning back.

            He walks over to the screen fence and peeks down to see several girls running around, carrying multiple lunch boxes. He recognizes them to be the same girls chasing him, and he turns away quickly just in case they look up. He sighs and leans on the fence, finally free for the next forty minutes.

            “Finally escaped them, have you?”

            Dowoon flinches and looks around frantically, until he catches the eyes of a boy sitting on the cemented floor of the school roof, a pair of silver headphones hanging around his neck.

            Dowoon screams internally.

            Younghyun, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow. “Too tired to speak?”

            “Uh, no, uh… just surprised,” Dowoon explains, coming back to his senses and trying his best not to make it obvious that he’s freaking out. “Uh, aren’t students not allowed to be here?”

            Younghyun chuckles. “Is that even a question?”

            _Right. Of course. Mr. Edgelord over here with the breaking the rules thing. Forgot about that._

            “Sit with me,” Younghyun says, and Dowoon screams internally again. (But he sits anyway.)

            “Did you eat?” Younghyun asks, and Dowoon shakes his head. “Figures. Maybe if you’ll have the canteen lady chasing you, you’ll have at least _something_ to eat.”

            Dowoon snorts, instinctively putting a hand over to cover his mouth. Younghyun grins at him, and pulls out a paper bag from next to him.

            “Here, take it.” Younghyun says, and Dowoon does. It’s a big piece of bread filled with cream and strawberries, and snowed with powdered sugar. “It’s supposed to be my lunch, but you can have it.”

            “Wait, what? No.” Dowoon pushes the paper bag to Younghyun’s chest. “You haven’t eaten yet—I can’t take this.”

            Younghyun laughs, pushing the bag back, “It’s fine. I can buy again later. You look like you need a break.”

            Dowoon looks down at the bread for a moment, before breaking it into two and handing the other half to Younghyun, who raises an eyebrow at that.

            “Come on,” he says, pushing it onto Younghyun’s mouth and covering his face in sugar, “you should eat, too. I’d feel bad if I stole your lunch.”

            “It’s not stealing if I’m giving it to you.”

            “Younghyun.”

            He raises his eyebrow again (he must really like doing that), and says:

            “You know my name?”

            Dowoon feels his cheeks burn up as he searches his mind for an answer that doesn’t point to the big fat crush he has for Mr. Kang Younghyun.

            “Uh… yeah! Uh, Mr. Cheon says your name almost every day…?”

            At that, Younghyun laughs, and Dowoon finds himself wanting to hear that laugh play over and over again in his hears.

            “And here I thought you had a crush on me,” Younghyun says, and Dowoon’s heart drops into his chest. _What!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

            But Younghyun just shakes his head, and says, “Good thing, too, ‘cause if you did, your fangirls are gonna put a price on my head.”     

            Younghyun finally accepts the piece of bread, grinning at Dowoon, who smiles a small smile back.

            They eat in silence, both of them easily finishing their half of the bread quickly. Dowoon tries to put the glancing at a minimum, but Kang Younghyun is sitting next to him with his silver headphones and dyed hair and—are-are those _piercings_? And since when has he been wearing silver bracelets on his wrist? Why is Dowoon’s heart racing like the main girl character in a drama? Why is Dowoon asking himself questions repeatedly like this—Dowoon can’t help the twenty glances per second rate he’s having.

            “Those girls just don’t give you a break, do they?” Younghyun asks, breaking the silence.

            “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I guess,” Dowoon stutters, scratching his neck and silently berating himself.

            “Doesn’t it get tired? Or do you actually like it when they follow you like that?”

            “It’s not like that. It’s just…” Dowoon sighs, and he can see in his peripheral vision Younghyun facing him. “They all look so happy. Not that I’m saying I’m someone people should idolize, but when those girls gush about me, they get these big smiles on their faces. Like I’m the reason they’re happy, or something. I don’t really understand that—I’m just a plain guy, really—but I don’t want to spoil their fun. Even though it’s tiring and annoying, I can’t bring myself to make them sad.”

            It’s a while before Younghyun replies.

            “But if they really cared for you, wouldn’t they want for you to be happy, too?”

            Dowoon jerks his head up and stares at Younghyun, who’s looking at him with a smile on his face. The latter pats his shoulder.

            “Don’t you think?” he asks.

            “I… I guess so…” Dowoon’s voice falters, half of his mind going _Younghyun is such a sweet guy_ and the other half going _His hand is on my shoulder his hand is on my shoulder oh my god his hand is_

“If it were me,” Younghyun says, retracting his hand from Dowoon’s shoulder and letting him breathe, “I think I’d rather make sure you were okay, rather than flocking around you just to make myself happy. Whatever makes you happy should make me happy, too. That’s what I think.”

            Dowoon stares at Younghyun, dumbfounded at his words. But slowly, a smile spreads across his face. Younghyun smiles, too.

            “Also, what do you mean by ‘I’m just a plain guy?’” Younghyun asks, ruffling Dowoon’s hair. “You’ve got a wonderful smile. I could stare at it all day, honestly.”

            Dowoon knows Younghyun’s joking, but all he can think of at this moment is how Younghyun has a wonderful smile, too.

 

When Dowoon checks his locker before leaving school that afternoon, he sees a milkbox sitting neatly on top of his books.

 

“You and that Younghyun boy look very close.”

            Dowoon looks down to see the smiley boy from his class, the one who’s pining over his best friend. (Dowoon should probably stop describing him like that, but there’s really no other description he can give him.)

            “Not really?” Dowoon says, turning back to looking for the _one_ Chemistry book that this library doesn’t seem to have.

            “Younghyun doesn’t usually hang out with anyone, though,” Wonpil says, seated on the ground and flipping a page from his book.

            “You know him well?”

            “Not really,” Wonpil says. “Just observant. The two of you hang out a lot, lately. And the both of you are the biggest loners in this school.” _Says the guy who’s going to be lonely for the rest of his life with the way he’s pining for some guy who won’t ever like him back_. “Younghyun hates everyone, and you would probably have friends if your fangirls weren’t so protective.”

            “I have friends,” Dowoon defends.

            “You have _one_ friend.”

            “So do _you_.”

            “I’m part of a love triangle—I have one friend and one associate. Which is more than what you got. Unless you want to count your fangirls?”

            What did Dowoon ever do to this guy?

            “I’m just saying,” Wonpil says, and Dowoon is _so_ glad he doesn’t have a crush on this guy, “if Younghyun, the guy that no one wants to be friends with, suddenly has someone he actually legitimately _smiles_ at, then that someone must be really special.”

            Dowoon looks down at Wonpil, who flips another page.

            “Are you _shipping_ the two of us?” Dowoon asks, half-joking and half-serious.

            “Yes,” Wonpil answers, matter-of-factly. “Jaehyung and I have a bet.”

            “I’m calling it DoHyun!” Jaehyung suddenly pops out from the other bookshelf, both startling Dowoon and the books that suddenly decided to jump down from the shelves and definitely were _not_ influenced by Dowoon knocking them over in surprise.

            The three of them stand (and sit) in silence.

            “Were you… were you hiding there the entire time?” Dowoon hesitantly asks.

            “Pretty much.” Jaehyung shrugs.

            Dowoon is glad he doesn’t have a crush on Jaehyung, either.

 

High school boys don’t usually like being bossed around and told to carry two stacks of notebooks alone to the faculty office in the middle of class, but Dowoon is an exception. He is most definitely the definition of a “goody-two-shoes cinnamon roll, too obedient for this world, too pure,” as Younghyun had described him a few days ago, and he is not embarrassed to admit it, either. There’s also the fact that there are never any girls flocking around him (and Mr. Cheon would never let them follow him, no matter how much they beg), so Dowoon happily enjoys his time walking through the hallways and passing by the library, where a sleeping Younghyun is currently—

            Dowoon almost drops the notebooks as he backtracks and peeks into the library.

            There, in full I-have-no-respect-for-the-school-uniform attire, is Younghyun, who is currently sitting on the table with his headphones on and his cheeks pushed up as he presses his face on to his arms, eyes closed.

            It’s a miracle that Younghyun doesn’t wake up with the way Dowoon almost slams the notebooks on the table.

            “He’s really sleeping…” Dowoon mumbles, putting his face a little bit closer to Younghyun’s. The latter is sleeping soundly, breathing through his nose. This close, Dowoon can hear the music blasting from his headphones—which is probably rock, or alternative, or whatever is considered edgy these days.

            “He’s gonna become deaf at this rate,” Dowoon mutters, reaching up and carefully removing the headphones. He places them on the table and, after looking for the cord and realizing that these are Bluetooth headphones, turns them off.

            For a while, Dowoon just stares at Younghyun, crouching in front of him and looking at him sleep. He’s probably being creepy right now (he can already hear the Edward references from like 2010) but seeing Younghyun peaceful like this makes Dowoon smile. He wonders if anyone’s ever seen Younghyun like this.

            _If Younghyun, the guy that no one wants to be friends with, suddenly has someone he actually legitimately smiles at_ —

            “—then that person must be really special,” Dowoon finishes the sentence out loud, feeling his chest flutter.

            But he doesn’t let himself hope too much. He doesn’t even know if Younghyun likes guys, or if Younghyun already has someone he likes. He doesn’t even know if Younghyun _wants_ to be part of a relationship, whether now or later. So Dowoon doesn’t hope. All he lets himself do is be beside Younghyun and like him.

            Sometimes, watching the stars without ever touching them can make you happy, too.

            “Like the view?”

            Dowoon would’ve fallen over if Younghyun hadn’t reached out and grabbed his wrist to steady him.

            “Woah,” Younghyun says, “you okay?”

            _No I’m not you’re holding my hand well my wrist but whatever that’s besides the point I am gay for you so gay I am so gay so gay so so gay so so so so_

“You’re getting red,” Younghyun points out.

            “Am I? No way. I’m just hot, yeah. It’s pretty hot right now. I’m extremely hot. Wow, that sun isn’t really giving us a break, is it?” Dowoon practically jumbles his words.

            “It’s October,” Younghyun points out, an eyebrow raised.

            “Yeah, and I’m Yoon Dowoon,” Dowoon blurts out, more sarcastic than necessary.

            He’s about to pick up those notebooks and run away as fast as possible (and probably bang his head on the wall repeatedly forever until he forgets about everything), but Younghyun grabs his wrist again.

            “Hey, slow down. I didn’t mean to tease you,” Younghyun laughs, and Dowoon would probably laugh, too, if it weren’t for that _damn hand._

            “How long were you awake?” Dowoon asks instead, trying to focus on something else.

            “From when you removed my headphones,” Younghyun answers, finally letting go of Dowoon’s wrist. “Why’d you take them off, by the way?”

            “You’ll get deaf if you keep sleeping like that,” Dowoon says, and Younghyun grins.

            “You care about me?” Younghyun asks, and there’s that teasing tone all over again, but all Dowoon says is,

            “Maybe.”

            It was just a mumble, just a whisper, but Younghyun’s eyes go wider than Dowoon’s ever seen them go. A pink tint spreads across his face, and Dowoon’s mind is half _Oh my god_ and half _Ha! Revenge is sweet._

            “Oh,” is all Younghyun squeaks out.

            The two of them stare at each other awkwardly (what kind of drama is this) before Dowoon says,

            “Anyway, I, uh, have to bring these notebooks to the faculty room now.” He gestures to said notebooks on the table.

            “Wait,” Younghyun says, grabbing Dowoon’s wrist.

            “Again with the _hand_ ,” Dowoon mumbles.

            “What?”

            “Nothing.”

            Younghyun pulls something from beside him and presses it on to Dowoon’s palm.

            It’s a milkbox.

            “For you to take home,” Younghyun says, grinning up at Dowoon.

            Dowoon smiles at Younghyun.

            “Thanks.”

            That ‘thanks’ is almost taken back when Dowoon discovers, two minutes later, how difficult it is to balance a milkbox on top of a big stack of notebooks.

            So yeah. Thanks, Younghyun. Thanks a _lot_.

 

Maybe it’s the fact that Dowoon’s been seeing Younghyun so often these past days. Maybe it’s the fact that Dowoon finally finds it easy to send a _Hi, hello_ when passing by the hallways, or maybe the fact that Younghyun keeps leaving a milkbox for Dowoon to drink before heading home. It could be the fact that Dowoon doesn’t go to the school rooftop just to run away from the girls, and the fact that Younghyun has filled up Dowoon’s music playlist with so many songs just from one meeting.

            Dowoon isn’t entirely sure why, but whatever reason it may be, he finds himself looking around to see if Younghyun is there. Finds himself looking behind him to see if Younghyun is passing by the area, if Younghyun decided he wanted to walk the same path as Dowoon. Finds himself wanting to see him more and more and more, finds himself looking for Younghyun like he was always supposed to be there.

            Dowoon isn’t sure if the fact that he’s become a bit closer to Younghyun is a blessing or a curse.

            When Dowoon didn’t know Younghyun, it was lonely being without him.

            Now that he does know him, it’s even lonelier.

            Dowoon sighs and leaves the school, the same girls following him as they always do, day after day.

             

“You play the bass?” Dowoon asks, sitting down on a seat in the music room. He had just been passing by when Younghyun spotted him and asked if he wanted to hang out for a while. Dowoon had been cool about it, of course. He most definitely did not almost run into Younghyun, trying to get inside as quick as possible. And Younghyun most definitely did not laugh at him for the next five minutes for it.

            “A little,” Younghyun replies, grabbing the instrument and playing with it a little. “Surprised?”

            _Considering the fact that I have a picture of you playing that very same bass guitar in my room, no. Not at all._

            “Yeah,” Dowoon says, sending a silent ‘thank you’ prayer that this question didn’t come up at a point when Younghyun is able to tell when Dowoon is lying. “How long have you played?”

            “Since third grade,” Younghyun says, and Dowoon smiles, trying to imagine a tiny little Younghyun carrying a big bass guitar. “I also know a bit of guitar, but I’ve always liked bass much better than—why are you smiling?”

            “Nothing, nothing,” Dowoon laughs. Younghyun chuckles with him, ruffling his hair like he always seems to be so fond of doing.

            “If ‘nothing’ already puts a beautiful smile to your face, I wonder what it’ll be like if you had ‘something.’”

            “Are you trying to be smart?” _Are you trying to kill me?_

            “They do say smart is the new sexy,” Younghyun says, giving Dowoon a suggestive look.

            Dowoon tries to ignore the blush on his face. _He’s just joking, you big nerd._

            “What did you want to show me?” Dowoon tries to change the subject.

            “Well, uh… there’s this song I’m currently writing…” Younghyun’s voice falters, like he’s shy to admit it.

            “You write songs?” Dowoon asks, intrigued. He scoots a bit closer to Younghyun.

            “Kind of?” Younghyun scratches his neck, looking at the ground. There’s a pink tint spreading across his face, like that time in the library. Dowoon finds himself smiling again. “I, uh… I don’t really have anyone to show this to, though I wanted some feedback on it.”

            “So you want to play a song for me?” Dowoon asks, a smile playing on his lips. He’s having fun with this new side of Younghyun.

            “… Maybe?” Younghyun almost whispers, looking up at Dowoon. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me. I haven’t told anyone about this—I’m trying to give you a piece of my soul here!”

            At that, Dowoon finds himself looking down at the floor, hiding a smile. Maybe it was just something said in the spur of the moment, but it doesn’t erase the fact that it made Dowoon a little happy.

            (Oh God, Dowoon just realized how annoying of a main character he probably is.)

            “Anyway, are you gonna listen to it, or not?” Younghyun says.

            Dowoon nods. “I’ll listen to it.”

            “Great.” Younghyun nods to himself, biting the inside of his cheek. “Don’t expect anything professional, alright?”

            “I wouldn’t even if you hadn’t told me.”

            “ _Wow_.”

            The moment Younghyun starts to play, every logical thing in Dowoon’s brain gets thrown out the window and comes pummeling down on Wonpil’s head.

            _What can I do? I’ve already fallen for you. You play games with me, but I love it. That’s just me._

            It’s like someone stole Dowoon’s heart, put it in a blender, and used it as ink to write the lyrics of this song. Every single word is like a mirror reflecting the way Dowoon feels about Younghyun.

            _What can I do? I’m pathetic, but what can I do? I just like being with you. I know I’m an idiot._

            No, maybe not all of the words point to Dowoon. Maybe they point to someone else.

            _You’re bad. I know that, but why am I still chasing you?_

            Maybe.

            _What can I do? I’ve already fallen for you._

            Maybe they point to the two of them.

            “So?” Younghyun asks. “Did you like it?”

            It takes a while for Dowoon to respond.

            “You said this song is like a part of your soul, right?” he asks.

            Younghyun backtracks a little, looking confused.

            “Well, yeah. Kind of?” Younghyun scratches the back of his neck again. “I put a little of myself in every song I write. So you could say that I _am_ my music. I guess.”

            Dowoon smiles a little.

            “Then I like your music,” he says. “I like your music a lot.”

 

“Um… Dowoon-ah… there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you…” 

            _That you’ve always liked me and I’ve probably inspired you in more ways than one and you didn’t know how it happened but you ended up developing feelings for me and now you want to ask if I could be your boyfriend._

Dowoon tries not to be that mean about this, really. Especially with the way the girl keeps shifting her eyes from the ground to Dowoon’s face. She probably prepared a lot for this, probably asked her friends for a pep talk, probably stressed about this overnight.

            But Dowoon’s _gay._ Like, _extremely_ gay. Like gay-for-Kang-Younghyun gay. _That_ gay.

            So, when the girl runs off to a different direction after sending Dowoon a “Thank you for being honest with me, Dowoon-ah,” Dowoon tries not to feel _too_ guilty about it as he leans back on the wall, which was probably littered with ants or something. Curse nature.

            “So you rejected her?”

            Dowoon does _not_ nearly fall down on the grass as Younghyun pokes his head out of the window from where he stands in the school hallway.

            Younghyun laughs at Dowoon’s expression, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

            “No need to be so surprised—it’s just me.”

            “I think the fact that it’s you is what’s making this so surprising,” Dowoon mumbles.

            “What?”

            “Nothing.”

            Younghyun faces the direction where the girl ran off to, while Dowoon just stares at him.

            “That girl looked like she was about to cry,” he points out. Younghyun turns back to Dowoon. “What did you say to her?”

            “I just… rejected her,” Dowoon says, turning away and looking forward.

            “That much is obvious, don’t you think, Dowoon-ssi?”

            Dowoon frowns, glaring at something on the ground.

            “Aw, hey, I’m sorry,” Younghyun says, patting Dowoon on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean to tease.”

            “You always tease me.”

            “That’s ‘cause I like you, you nerd.”

            Dowoon turns to Younghyun in surprise, eyes wide. Younghyun is grinning at him.

            “You like me?” he asks in surprise.

            “Of course, I do.” Younghyun ruffles Dowoon’s hair, again. “I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

            _Oh. He meant it as… oh._

“Oh. Okay,” Dowoon says, turning away and looking forward.

            “So what did you say to her?” Younghyun asks again. “Not to be the mom friend, but if you ended up saying something that’s way too harsh, we’re going to have to have The Talk.”

            “It’s not like that,” Dowoon says, sighing. “I just… I told her that…”

            “That…?”

            “That I…”

            “That you…?”

            Dowoon turns to Younghyun, who has a playful look on his face.

            “That I already have someone I like,” he finishes.

            Younghyun blinks once. Twice.

            “Oh,” he says.

            “That’s it,” Dowoon says, turning away.

            “Oh.”

            The two of them don’t speak for a while.

            “What are they like?” Younghyun finally asks.

            Dowoon smiles, a bit sadly.

            “You know them well,” he says.

            “I do?”

            “Yeah, you do. They’re sweet, kind, caring. Misunderstood, though that’s probably also kind of their own fault. They’re extremely talented, and they like to tease me a lot. They have a wonderful taste in music, and like to be alone. Sometimes, they say things that make me… shy. Flustered. And all that jazz.”

            Dowoon can feel his heart racing, his hand shaking, wondering if Younghyun got it.

            “I see…” Younghyun says, nodding to himself. “Well, whoever it is, I’m sure the two of you will be happy together.”

            Dowoon can feel disappointment filling up his heart, but it doesn’t hurt much. There was only a little bit of space left to fill, after all.

            “I don’t think so,” Dowoon says, earning a raised eyebrow from Younghyun.

            “Why not?”

            “Because he doesn’t like me back, stupid,” Dowoon says, reaching over to pinch Younghyun on the cheek. “Also, he’s pretty dense. But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

            “Why would I know about that?” Younghyun asks, confused.

            “Exactly.”

            Dowoon is about to leave when Younghyun grabs his hand. Even now, the feeling still makes Dowoon’s chest constrict so much.

            “Wait, I was about to give you this.”

            He hands Dowoon a milkbox. Dowoon stares at it before letting a smile play on his lips.

            “Thanks, Younghyun.”

            Dowoon said it before, didn’t he? Even if Younghyun couldn’t like him back, Dowoon would be alright with just being his friend, would be alright with just liking him.

            Right now, he’s satisfied just by watching the stars.

 

“I like your house,” Younghyun says, sitting on the couch and looking around him.

            “Thanks. My parents bought it,” Dowoon says, sitting on a couch across him and placing the books on the coffee table.

            “Why do you always have to sass me?”

            “Why do you always have to tease me?”

            “Touché.”

            It’s a little bit weird to have Younghyun in his house on a weekend like this, but at least Dowoon’s a little used to having him around, even if every word Younghyun says goes straight to his weak, weak heart. Imagine if Mr. Cheon had assigned them as partners _before_ Dowoon saw him at the rooftop.

            “When are we going to pass this?” Younghyun asks, grabbing a book and flipping through the pages without actually reading the words. The disrespect.

            “Next Monday, I think.”

            “That’s like a week away?” Younghyun sits up.

            “So?” Dowoon glances at Younghyun.

            “Why are we working on a project that we can do… _not_ today?”

            “Younghyun. _Honey_ ,” Dowoon says with a smile. “I’m not gonna let my grades drop just because you insist on keeping the title of ‘Angst is My Middle Name.’”

            “Hey, I’m not _always_ so grumpy and brooding.”

            “Says the guy who bumped into a girl yesterday and glared at her.”

            “That was _one_ person.”

            “Says the guy who walks in the hallway like mothertrucking Moses.”

            “It’s a mutual hate. _You_ have to deal with an unrequited love on a daily basis with your fans.”

            “I only need _one_.”

            At that, Younghyun raises an eyebrow. Dowoon feels heat rushing up to his cheeks. His eyes fleet from something that isn’t Younghyun to another thing that also isn’t Younghyun before he rises up from his seat.

            “A-anyway, I think I left some more books in my room,” Dowoon says, making sure to not look Younghyun in the eye since they’re at the point in time when Younghyun can tell if Dowoon is lying.

            “While you’re at it, can you get me those cookies you made for me last time?” Younghyun says. “And don’t say you ran out—I saw you eating some when your mom opened the door.”

            “I’m not your boyfriend,” Dowoon blurts out, instantly regretting his decision and suddenly needing to run into the kitchen to shove his head in the freezer for a good twenty-two minutes.

            “But you love me anyway!” Younghyun calls out, a laugh escaping his lips as Dowoon walks in the kitchen.

            Dowoon leans on the kitchen counter for a little bit, closing his eyes (what kind of drama is this).

            _Yeah, I do._

            Ever since that day in the music room, it’s all Dowoon’s been thinking about.

 

“You and that Younghyun boy seem close.”

            Dowoon’s first instinct is to ask Wonpil where the hell he came from, but then he realizes that (1) he’s still at home, and (2) it’s his mother who’s speaking.

            “Oh, uh… sorry, mom,” Dowoon apologizes after seeing his mom’s Younghyun-esque raised eyebrow questioning her son’s reaction. “Uh, I mean… maybe? I don’t know.”

            His mother brings out a tray of cookies from the fridge, the same ones Dowoon had baked a day before.

            “You seem unsure,” she says, grabbing a plate and placing five cookies on it.

            “I…” Dowoon doesn’t know what to say. That he’s currently pining over the school’s resident ‘bad boy?’ (Ew.) That every time Younghyun speaks it’s like Dowoon gets reborn every time? That he feels like the main character in a fanfic that wasn’t supposed to go this way but now that we’re here there’s no turning back?  

            “Dowoon-ah—” Dowoon’s having some _major_ déjà vu right now— “how exactly do you feel about that boy?”

            Ah, yes. The Talk.

            Dowoon sighs, staring at his shoes. They’re a very pretty color, by the way. A wonderful shade of blue. Dowoon bought those himself. Younghyun even said they looked cool.

            “I don’t know… I-I like him, I guess,” Dowoon mumbles. “It’s just that I know he doesn’t like me back. But I still wanna be friends with him. And I don’t think he has to know what I feel about him. And stuff. Yeah. Whatever.”

            “So you haven’t actually told him how you felt?”

            “No.”

            “Dowoon-ah.”

            “Mom.”

            His mother smacks him on the shoulder.

            “How will you know if he doesn’t like you back if you’ve never even asked?” she half-yells, half-whispers (because ‘he’ is still in the house, and the both of them are smart enough to make sure no eavesdropping will ever occur in this fic).

            “Intuition?” Dowoon guesses.

            “The last time you used your ‘intuition,’ you ended up creating a fan club!” his mother reminds him. “You thought a student was a teacher and ended up offering to carry her things, and now the entire school is in love with you!”

            “How do you even know that? I’ve never told you anything!”

            “Korean Mothers’ Communication Circle is a very strong thing, Dowoon. A very strong thing.”

            Dowoon doesn’t know what to say to this, either.

            His mother takes on a more gentle tone:

            “Dowoon-ah, you can’t just assume someone’s feelings. The only way for you to know what’s really in their hearts is to _ask_.”        

            Dowoon stares at his shoes again. There’s even a cute little penguin design near the ankle.

            “Now, _go_ ,” his mother instructs him, pushing the plate of cookies into his chest and pushing him out the kitchen. “I’m sacrificing my dream of getting grandchildren for this, so you have better gotten me a son-in-law by the end of this week. I think Younghyun-ah went up to your room to get those books for you.”

            Dowoon smiles to himself as he walks to the living room, placing the plate on the coffee table. The books are untouched, in true Younghyun nature.

            “He went to get my books for me, huh?” Dowoon says out loud, chuckling to himself.

            Wait a minute.

            _His room._

            Dowoon most definitely trips on the way up the stairs, and he most definitely slams his entire body onto his room door as he barges in.

            Younghyun turns around in surprise, holding something in his hand.

            It’s a picture of him. The same one that Dowoon wakes up to every day. The same one that used to sit among the other many pictures of Younghyun. The same pictures that Younghyun is standing in front of now.

            For a while, the two of them stare at each other, Dowoon’s mind a series of exclamation points and Younghyun’s eyes wide as ever.

            “You… uh…” Younghyun starts. “You really put a lot of effort into this.” He gestures to the pictures.

            If Dowoon could go back in time, he wishes he could be a better and less embarrassing man.

 

Dowoon is walking down the hallway when he spots a particular silver-headphone-wearing guy heading his direction.

            _Damn it damn it damn it_

“Hey, Dowoon!” Younghyun starts running towards him. “I was looking for you—”

            The boy is immediately blocked by a group of girls before Younghyun can even grab Dowoon’s wrist.

            “Hey! You can’t speak to Dowoon-ah like that!” says one of the girls.

            For once in his entire life, Dowoon is _so_ glad he has a fan club.

            “Look, I don’t want a fight. I just need to talk to him,” Dowoon hears Younghyun say.

            “Dowoon-ah is a busy man,” says another girl. “He doesn’t have time for outsiders like you.”

            “Outsid—what?”

            Dowoon takes this chance to start brisk-walking in the other direction.

            “He- _Hey!_ Yoon Dowoon!”

            It takes all of Dowoon’s power not to turn back.

 

Younghyun’s been trying non-stop to talk to Dowoon: cornering him in the library, offering to walk him home, even following him in the guy’s restroom, just for a chance to speak to him.

            And Dowoon knows he’s being ridiculous. He knows that it’s probably best to talk things out with Younghyun, get the confession over with, and live the rest of his life falling in love with guys who all look like Younghyun.

            But Dowoon doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to have to face it. He doesn’t want to have to face the reality of “I’m sorry, Dowoon, but I don’t like you,” like he’s been expecting since the day his heart started to follow Younghyun’s. Because Dowoon knows how it’s going to end. He just wants to write a few more pages so he won’t have to see the last one as soon.

            God, _this_ is why you don’t make altars dedicated to the people you lo— _like_. Do people even actually do this anymore? Moreover, how dedicated of a fan do you have to be to put so much detail into it? Even Dowoon’s little display only had, like, five pictures and a letter, and a few stickers he found in the storage closet. Do people never think of the possibility of anyone seeing it? Do people just decide _Hey let’s make an altar for this guy I like. No worries, it’s not like he’s gonna become my partner for a group assignment or anything—_

“Dowoon! There you are.”

            Dowoon almost falls out of his chair, but Younghyun grabs his wrist before he does.

            Dowoon doesn’t have time to squeal internally about it.

            “Hey, I wanted to talk to you,” Younghyun says, not letting go of Dowoon.

            “I… I’m busy,” Dowoon hastily says, trying to shake Younghyun off while grabbing his things clumsily in one hand. “I-I have to go… somewhere.”

            “Let me go there with you,” Younghyun says. “We can talk on the way.”

            “No, Younghyun, I…” Dowoon finally shakes Younghyun off and starts heading out the library. But Younghyun is nothing if not persistent, and he starts following him out.

            “It’s not gonna take that long. I just wanted to talk about what happened last ti—”

            “It’s really cold, isn’t it?” Dowoon blurts out, interrupting Younghyun. “That October breeze is really getting to us, huh?”

            “It’s November.”

            “And I’m _really_ busy, so I gotta go now, bye!”

            Dowoon starts running down the hallway, almost tripping.

            “Hey! Yoon Dowoon, why don’t you want to speak to me?” he hears Younghyun call out.

            Dowoon doesn’t bother trying to answer.

 

It’s when Dowoon is walking in the middle of the hallway using the girls as a protective barrier that he hears it. (And he was on his way to the faculty room, too.)

            “YAH! YOON DOWOON!”

            Dowoon nearly drops all of the notebooks as he turns around, eyes wide in surprise. Younghyun is storming towards him, glaring at anyone who’s passing by.

            One of Dowoon’s fan girls blocks his path.

            “Hey! You can’t talk to him like that!” she says, crossing her arms protectively.

            Dowoon turns away, ready to leave the scene once again.

            “That’s right—only fans can talk to him!” says another. “If you’re not a fan, then go away right now.”

            Dowoon hears Younghyun scoff.

            “Dowoon has so many fans,” he raises his voice, like he wants Dowoon to hear, “but he only needs _one_.”

            Dowoon turns back, stopping himself in his tracks. It’s like the world’s in slow motion as he watches Younghyun shoulder his way through the crowd until he finally grabs hold of Dowoon’s wrist.

            “Let’s go to the rooftop,” Younghyun says, and his voice is as low as it could possibly get.

            “What kind of drama is this,” Dowoon mumbles.

            But he lets himself be lead anyway.

 

Younghyun closes the door shut, his hand still wrapped around Dowoon’s wrist.

            For a while, the both of them don’t say anything.

            “So, you’re my fan now?” Dowoon asks.

            And it’s like the hands of the clock started moving again after three days. Younghyun suddenly bursts into laughter, having to bend over to catch his breath. And little by little, a smile starts to creep up Dowoon’s face, too, until the both of them are laughing together, both of them in a place they really shouldn’t be when it’s time for Mr. Cheon’s class, but at this point, Dowoon couldn’t care less.

            “I’ve been trying… to talk to you…” Younghyun says, in between laughs. “But you wouldn’t give me a chance.”

            Dowoon just scratches the back of neck, feeling a blush spreading across his face.

            “I know. Sorry,” he says. But Younghyun just grins at him, shaking his head a little.

            He pulls something out of his pocket, and Dowoon’s first thought is _How can he keep a milk box in his pocket?_ but then it turns out to be a black wallet.

            “I wanted to show you this,” Younghyun says. He pulls something out of his wallet and hands it to Dowoon.

            It’s a picture of Dowoon. Lying on the school grounds with earbuds in his ears, eyes closed like he just fell asleep.

            “Where did you get this?” Dowoon asks, surprised.

            “You’re not the only one who keeps pictures of other people at home,” Younghyun says, chuckling. “Well, I just have this, anyway. I got it from your fan club two months ago.”

            “Two months ago? We haven’t even met then.”

            All Younghyun does is smile at Dowoon, like it’s obvious. But it’s not. And Dowoon is _extremely_ confused right now.

            “But why?” Dowoon asks.

            “It’s cause I’ve liked you for a long time, you big nerd,” Younghyun laughs, a pink tint spreading across his cheeks.

            Dowoon furrows his eyebrows.

            “You wanted to be my friend for a long time?” he asks.

            Younghyun rolls his eyes this time, and Dowoon wonders if this is why people don’t like hanging around with him.

            “And you call _me_ dense.” Younghyun shakes his head.

            “What do you—”

            But then Younghyun’s leaning his face close to Dowoon’s, and suddenly his lips are touching his, and suddenly Dowoon feels like he’s the biggest idiot in this entire school.

            _Oh. He meant is as… oh._

When Younghyun pulls away, and Dowoon sees the smile on his face, he’s fairly certain he’s gonna see it very often in the future.

            Dowoon was too busy focusing on his star-gazing to remember that stars have their own way to get to Earth.

 

“Dowoon-ah! Younghyun-ah!”

            The two of them turn back to see a group of girls gathered behind them, a lot of them looking like they’re on the brink of tears. Dowoon shares a confused look with Younghyun, who shrugs.

            “What is it?” Dowoon asks.

            A girl with long hair steps forward, taking a deep breath.

            “As president of the Yoon Dowoon fan club, I am here to say that—” her voice breaks and she turns away for a brief moment, before turning back— “while it breaks our hearts to know that Dowoon-ah has finally found someone he can call his, I would just like Dowoon-ah and Younghyun-ah to know that we are here to support the two of you no matter what.

            “So! At the suggestion of our newest member, we will now rename ourselves as the DoHyun fan club!”

            “HELL YEAH!”

            Jaehyung springs out from the crowd of girls, hollering.

            “And _as_ the newest member of the DoHyun fan club,” he starts, rather formally, “I would just like to say that it is our topmost priority to make sure that no one gets in the way of your love.”

            Dowoon doesn’t know what to say about this, really. Honestly. What the hell.

            But Younghyun just laughs like it’s nothing.

            “Sorry to disappoint you guys, but…” He drapes his arm around Dowoon’s shoulder, pressing their heads together. “… I can protect my boyfriend well enough on my own.”

            Younghyun presses a kiss onto Dowoon’s cheek, and Dowoon’s pretty sure Jaehyun’s squeal is bigger than Dowoon’s internal one.

            “Come on,” Younghyun says, pulling Dowoon away from the crowd, “I’ll buy you a milk box before we get home.”

            Dowoon smiles, squeezing Younghyun’s hand as they go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, What Can I Do MV, for making me ship a rarepair that practically has no content for it at all. Thanks a lot.
> 
> Edit: ~~for those whove been asking, I dont think Ill be writing a dohyun fic for I Loved You,~~ lmao
> 
> Also, since i love my sister very much, if u like to read bts fics and ship yoonjin, go read her yoonjin fic "When The Sky Cried for Us" at http://archiveofourown.org/works/12024375/chapters/27217035. The first chapters up. Be sure to comment and share your love! She worked hard for it ^^
> 
> HI HELLO I FORGOT TO LINK THE DELETED SCENES HERE YOU GO THERES AN ANGSTY AND CRACK VER THANKS  
> https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao/status/901436445474172929?s=19


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